


I'll Find You (in full, chronological)

by CocoNoSuga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, kurotsuki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16321262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoNoSuga/pseuds/CocoNoSuga
Summary: (The Krtskangstweek story in order)He knew his duty. It was to kill him, this enemy of the kingdom barely clinging to life, but it was different when they were down already.





	I'll Find You (in full, chronological)

Injury

 

This one was still alive.

 

In his exhausted state, he was surprised his heart still had the energy to spare on things like this.

This one was alive.

 

Glancing to where his captain stood, he realised everyone had pulled ahead of him. When had he started falling behind?

Not that it mattered. None of it mattered. This fight didn't – hadn't mattered.

How could it be called a victory?

There had to be a better way.

Why was this the answer.

 

He knew his duty. It was to kill him, this enemy of the kingdom barely clinging to life, but it was different when they were down already. Defenceless.

The battle – if it could be called that – had been over before it started, digustingly one-sided. Tsukishima trusted those above him had their reason for all of this but still he couldn't shake the undercurrent of emotion he tried to sedate.

 

It was wrong, he realised with certain clarity, even as the shame at doubting his superiors' conviction crept at his throat.

 

He could...

 

He could just leave this one to die. He didn't have to do anything. Nobody had to do anything. Acting on impulse only made things worse in the long run. Keep walking, forget that he'd ever even dared to breach the walls of expectation.

 

The sun came out seeking out his retinas and burning heavily on his skin. The fallen one squinted in the sudden light and without thinking Tsukishima moved so his tall shadow fell across his face.

 

He couldn't save them all. Not on his own. Not right now.

 

But maybe,

just maybe.

 

This one.

 

This one he could save.

 

 

The fallen one surfaced, fixing struggling eyes on Tsukishima, seeming to hold him there in his indecision. For a few heartbeats or more he could see the other think fast, quickly assessing the situation, inhaling sharply when he tested his connection to the source. A mage, like him, then. Tsukishima hadn't even had the presence of mind to check.

 

He watched as the man he let the tension go from his neck with a weak laugh, closing his eyes in a grimace before forcing them to meet Tsukishima's again with what looked like a monumental amount of effort.

The lazy smile that seemed to spread, unbidden across the others face, surprised Tsukishima, putting him on guard as he determined to meet the elfs gaze. 

 

“...can think of worse ways for this day to end.” the elf rasped.

 

He had already made up his mind and whatever that had been in the mans tone further convinced him he was making the right choice. No matter how much it was going to cost him.

 

With a last look to his comrades, he braced himself and lowered a hand to the fallen elf, transporting them, at the very least, away from all this for now.

 

\---

 

As soon as the horns had sounded, he'd felt the weight of the enemies attack build and he understood.

They didn't have a chance.

It didn't stop him from fighting with all he could, but as friends and people he didn't care for but still, wouldn't wish dead, died around him, he took it all on himself to shield the anyone still alive, ordering a retreat. They couldn't win this today and, as a light filled his vision and he braced himself for impact, it even occurred to him maybe he wouldn't get another chance after today.

 

Awareness lanced his body back into being and he felt someone standing over him, considering. Some instinct told him to stay still through the haze of his injuries, but the light hurt him through his closed eyes, just as a shadow crossed over him.

 

Curiosity swam through his wavering consciousness. He wanted to see what kind of being would be so kind as to shield him from the light, whilst also doing nothing to help him.

Maybe there was nothing they could do to, his brain offered, as his eyes adjusted to the angel standing over him.

 

A lot of things happened at once, the net result of them leading to him slumping back from the slight angle he'd managed to crane his head to, realising his connection to the source was barely a trickle. It hurt. It all hurt, and he couldn't do a thing to change it. It was almost funny.

 

He'd burn this man's image into his mind and haunt him in the afterlife, he thought, holding his gaze, taking note as something seem to break behind the humans eyes.

Okay, maybe not haunt. Make him get a message to his family back home, he thought, mind starting to float before he felt the strong pull of magic and his vision faded to black.

 

* * *

 

 

Forbidden Love

 

Cool breeze and the sound of padded footsteps brought him awake. His eyes opened without effort and he struggled to remember why that was so surprising.

He was in a cave, he registered, as a pensive sigh echoed off the rock face.

 

“Don't move.” a carefully bored voice offered, “I've only healed you enough so that you won't die.”

Taking a few seconds to breathe, he found he could sense several pain block and regeneration spells in place. It didn't come rushing back to him, just felt like he'd picked up where he left off, which had not been what he'd expecting.

 

“Thank-you.” he said, barely more than a whisper.

“You can thank me by picking up your end of the process.” the frowning owner of the voice finally crouched down into his field of view, adjusting his glasses with a shaking hand as he screwed the top off the water-flask.

 

He still couldn't believe that this was real. That he was alive. With a detached curiosity, he watched the human checking his arm under the bandage, peeling it back and cursing at what he saw before taking the bandage off completely. He seemed to be barely keeping it together, himself, if the frazzled display before him was any indication. Rinsing his arm the best he could, he swayed a little, getting up to rip pieces of material off... something, before landing heavily back down beside him.

The visible strain in his arms as he re-sutered the wound with a spell not made for that purpose belied the desperation of his actions.

 

Sighing, he tested his link to the source again, going along with whatever this was for now. The sooner he was able to move, the sooner he would maybe be able to get home. He was rewarded by a slow sense of grating that took a sharp twist into blinding pain and he heard someone cry out as he cut the connection again.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead as his breathing came in gasps.

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry...” he heard the angel repeat, over and over and it finally hit him what had been off about the situation. He could feel the man directing his energy towards him, and then up around them. Protecting them. Given the circumstances, if he could have healed him fully, it would be less of a burden on the man. Maybe he'd used any reserves he'd had getting them wherever here was, and was using the dregs he could muster to keep them hidden and him from dying so fast.

 

It felt like a long-shot, like some dumb stunt that he would try and pull, so he said what he would have liked to hear at a time like this.

“It's okay. You've got this.” he said with the volume he could muster, going to place his other, non-bandaged hand on top of the other mans, before realising that one was also wrapped up, something hard pressing into his bone telling him it was probably a splint.

Well, maybe he didn't have this, but-

“Easy for you to say.” he swore, forcing himself upright. “When I said don't move, I meant don't do anything. I'll kill you if you do.”

It wasn't an empty threat. It's just that the words that were wrong. He found himself huffing in laughter, before a warning spike resounded somewhere in his chest, and he brought it under control.

 

Looking up again to find the man with a kind of irritated expression of horror on his face made it harder to control. Opening his mouth to snarl something at him, he suddenly went stock still, eyes glaring at the cave-mouth, colour draining from him face.

They'd been found, he guessed, and started focusing on the way the mans hands felt. One on his arm and the other still on his forehead, figuring it'd be the last thing he'd do.

 

Last thing he'd do, again.

 

For now, at least?

 

When was a ghost, he'd make sure to thank him properly. Or maybe they'd both be spirits and they could get to know each other-

 

Suddenly crowding around him, breath ragged, the elf blinked in disbelief as the human wove another spell, directly around their vicinity. A cloaking one, he noted in a daze. The next thought, that he had been holding back power from healing him, got silenced as he took in the sight before him. Head bowed, eyes drawn shut, teeth gritting with the strain of keeping silent, he could feel him trying to control his breath from the way their torsos were lined up, keeping close to limit the proximity of the spell and working desperately not to crush the elf with his weight.

 

If he could have stroked his face he would have, but careful, almost silent footsteps made his ears prick up.

 

He really was resigned to his fate, he realised. Two scouts of potential death stalking around the cave, so close he was sure they'd hear them breathing, and he busied himself with watching how the sweat beaded on the mans forehead as some of the pale strands of hair fell forward. The scouts walked deeper into the cave, away from them and for the moment it felt like it was just the two of them again, except that they couldn't move for fear of discovery. It occurred to him that the pain blockers were definitely a luxury right now, so he unlatched those spells without much further thought, thinking the human was either too far gone, or too proud to admit he was at his limit he didn't need the extra control.

 

There.

 

Now they were both suffering immeasurably and the spells were more stable. That seemed fair. He felt his consciousness slip again when his body actually caught up to just how much pain he was in and began to regret his decision a little. Looking up at the man, he could see he his gaze was caught between exasperation and admiration, and plain unbridled fury. He'd be delighted at that under normal circumstances, and felt a trace of a smile surface before the pain made him falter.

 

The scouts were still in the cave, this man had done what he could to heal him, but now he could feel he was still broken all over and a tremble started, unbidden in the un-bandaged arm, the wound still open to the air. His face scrunched up as he tried to will it away and a whimper escaped his lips.

The weight shifted over him a little and his eyes flew open to meet the humans, more gold than brown with the power of the source coursing through him, lighting him from within. The human moved to hold the elfs head in both hands, he didn't try to look away from those big, tired, worried eyes, watching and gauging... something. The elfs eyes glazed over again with pain, and the human winced in turn. His forehead pressed down onto his at the same time tendrils of a spell curled around him and suddenly the pain was gone, replaced by an exhaustion he'd never known, doubled by a sense of disorientation, loss and debilitating guilt. His arms and legs were about to give out and why was he doing this anyway? None of it made any sense. He just knew he had to do it and he hated it.

 

Considering how detatched he'd already felt from his own body, being pulled into someone elses wasn't helping, but did make it easier to breathe. His brain didn't realise it was him that was hurting, so it didn't need to react.

 

And while he was in here, he could do what he wanted to do earlier. Kind of.

A little different to physically placing his hands over the others, he concentrated instead on the intention that would have been trying to convey and thought he'd find resistance, but instead he seemed to grasp onto it fully, using it as a pillar to steady himself. His heart sung a little. Having only read about this kind of mind-melding thing, he knew it was safe and was very highly recommended to be done under dangerous, controlled circumstances. He felt some of those words were in the wrong place, but he was so, so tired...

 

He felt the human curse the scouts for being so thorough and then a question came his way.

_Kuroo_  he answered. He sent out an enquiry himself, but got no reply. That was okay. He was kind of busy right now. He felt himself floating, floating and then fading, before a flare of defiance reared up, starting in his (?) stomach and imbuing his being with baseless determination. This was probably going to -

 

_Hmm? Where?_  he wondered to himself, before thinking about his soldiers and the barracks. They'd be safe there.

 

A blinding flash and a feeling of falling, but not really moving and the familiar smell of people that needed to wash their clothes a bit more frequently than they did themselves, worked its way through both their noses, and he knew he was home.

 

* * *

 

 

Sacrifice

 

He needed to move. He couldn't move. He'd locked his arms and legs so hard to keep this idiot protected and now they needed to move and instead all he wanted to do was fall into said idiot and ask him told hold his face again. It'd felt so right. It'd taken him away from all of it for the short span of time it had lasted.

 

The idiot was home, and now  _this_  idiot needed to get the  _fuck out_. Elf-idiot wasn't healed, but he was stable. Now human-idiot needed to get himself out of the damn  _barracks_ of an  _elf-general_  because he couldn't see how the prince of the enemy would be at all welcomed, even if he had saved one of their own.

 

Scanning the area without thinking, he doubled over in pain, gasping. He'd overstretched himself even before he'd transported them half a country away, what had he expected? Reaching out to the idiot - to Kuroo's hand to bring it to his face, Tsukishima hoped in vain it would give him the same strength as it had before.

 

It didn't. And his hand was annoyingly cold. Tsukishima had nothing more to give to help him. He could tell that now. Any more than this and he would kill himself.

Similarly, if they found him here, they'd kill him too.

Tsukishima weighed his choices, not bothering to control his hand as it trembled over Kuroos, blood trickling from the gash he'd not been given time to re-bandage.

 

Curse  _everything_.

 

If all roads led to his death, at least Tsukishima could decide how he went. He was so close to burning himself out that using it to ensure at least  _one_  idiot carried on seemed like the only logical conclusion. It wouldn't matter that he'd only been able to apply low-level healing spells, burning a life for someone else would do the rest of the work.

There was something... just,

something. And he didn't have words for it. When he'd sheltered Kuroo's mind in his... his presence. There was something about it. Something that made Tsukishima think it'd be worth his life to make sure to guarantee someone like Kuroo would be assured to keep existing.

And since Tsukishima was  _definitely_  already dead at this point...

But,

he couldn't move.

Something kept him from moving. Something made him want to dare he could hope to see that something again, himself. Maybe even understand it one day.

 

 

He couldn't do it. He wouldn't.

 

 

Squeezing Kuroo's hand a little, he checked the spells were still in place, stifling a groan as the feedback was yes, they were, but the undercurrent of pain it brought was frustratingly disorienting. Bad, but not kind enough to knock him out, like he wished it would.

 

The air shifted, and from where he lay he could see the door had been opened. The silence became heavy with figures, moving stealthily, coming to settle around their prone firms. Looking. Waiting. He saw a hand placed on Kuroos chest. Tsukishima felt himself be rolled over, heard Kuroo cry. Probably because he hadn't let go of his hand and had dragged it with him. He needed to know he was going to be okay. If not-

 

He could do it, if he needed to.

 

If that's what it would take.

 

* * *

 

 

Amnesia

 

Kuroo tried to pace himself. It had only been a couple of days and he was nowhere near full health, but he couldn't believe the audacity of these people. The man had saved his life at great risk to his own, thrown away everything that he must have held dear, all because he couldn't bring himself to kill an enemy in the aftermath.

Did that absolve him on being part of the attack that had almost wiped out a clan? No. Of course not. He didn't think it did. The human certainly didn't seem to think of himself as some kind of saviour. All he'd sensed from the man was the hate directed inwards for not being strong enough to act sooner.

 

The council had eventually granted him a compromise: erase his memories. From the moment he met Kuroo up until they released him back into his own kingdom. If the spell went wrong, he'd lose a lot more, but he would still live. That was all they would promise.

They wouldn't hear his arguments that maybe this could be the beginning of change. If one human could see the futility of this struggle, maybe there could be more and he didn't know where to put his frustration when he realised they weren't listening. More than that, it was like they'd heard it all before and always came to the same conclusion - to do nothing.

He begged them to see reason, but his words held little sway. He was just a general. He was to stick to organising his company and leave the running of the country to those who knew what they were doing.

 

Vowing to ursurp the throne, he made his way down to the dungeons. The guards gave him warning looks, but sighed resignedly when he asked to be left alone with the prisoner, moving to stand outside the door before closing it firmly behind them.

Hinata, he'd said his name was. Hinata Tobio. Nobody recognised the name so he was either some pleb who'd rose to the rank of mage through sheer determination, or he was lying about his name.

 

Or both.

 

Arriving at the cell, he took a breath to steady himself. There he sat, tall and waiting, brown eyes burning with focus, widening a little on recognising Kuroo before assuming an unimpressed stare.

“Oh, so you survived.”

Unable to pair the desperation of the “Hinata” from a few days ago with the unaffected prisoner of war Hinata in front of him, Kuroo remained impassive.

“I did. Very much thanks to you.”

They shared a look. Hinata was the first to turn away, scowl masking a troubled frown in the face of Kuroos sincerity.

“...and? Do I get to go free now?”

“I've been trying to convince them to give you asylum, but it was unsuccessful.” he got an unamused huff at that. “The best they're willing to do is remove your memories of your time here, and of me, and set you down inside your borders.”

“That's... more than I was thinking I'd get.” he said quietly, letting out a breath before sharp eyes locked onto his “But what benefit of theirs is it that I go back  _not_ knowing what happened? You're not monsters, I've been treated... relatively decently... and when I get back I plan to try and fight the war itself”

Kuroo's eyes widened at the statement.

“How would you do that, Hinata Tobio?”

“I don't know yet,” he shifted his arms uncomfortably, the shackles around his wrists crinkling “but if I lose my memories, I'll be set so far back that...

"Who's to say I won't do it all again?”

Kuroo remained silent.

“How many people would have to die... how many people could  _live_  if they just gave me the chance?”

“They don't care.” he bit out. Shock registered on Hinatas face at his tone. “I tried to tell them, I argued for them to give you an audience. I don't know how to make them listen.” Kuroo said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “There has to be a way, but I don't know how and -” he paused before letting his breath out in one go. There were still things he could try, but-

“The longer you remain here, the more likely people are to come to know yoyou' here, and the higher the risk that they'll have you executed as an example.”

Disbelief and frantic thinking filled the silence.

 

“I'm sorry.” he finished pathetically. 

 

Hinata stood up, slowly walking forward, being notablycautious of the charged prison bars as he looked around them for the guards.

“I sent them out.” Kuroo offered.

“Get me out of here.” Hinata hissed, pinning him with a glare.

“I can't.”

“You can." Kuroo shook his head at that. "You're strong. You can dispel this cell and my bonds and I can do the rest.”

“They'll know it's me and!” he rushed to cut off Hinata “and it won't just be me who gets punished.” He felt trapped, he didn't know what he was missing. If he only knew, he could work this all out. “Even if I run with you, my entire company will go down as an example.”

 

He became aware of Hinata's burning gaze, measuring him up again. It wasn't as intense as the first few times he'd been privy to it, but it was unmistakable.

“What is it?” he said softly “I'll help if I can.”

Eyebrows flinching behind his glasses in momentary annoyance, “You...” Hinata visibly gathered himself, before irritation won out again at the smile Kuroo didn't bother to keep down. It seemed to quell any hesitation he'd been harbouring.

“I have a... tool that I could that I could imbue with my memories.” he clipped out. “All I would have to do is touch it again and they'd be restored.”

“Sounds great!” he obliged “How do we do that?”

“I need you to come in here and help me out.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I'm not completely convinced you won't just try to blast your way out. If it was just me, it'd be fine. I'm protecting my people here-”

“I won't!” Hinata stated, exasperation leaking into his tone. "I don't want- ... I won't. I give you my word."

Now it was time for Kuroo to measure up the human. He felt he knew he could trust him, but war made people do things they wouldn't normally do.

 

 

Like save the life of an enemy soldier.

 

 

Cursing, he motioned for Hinata to step away from the bars and disrupted them enough so he could step through.

 

“...aren't we both trapped in here now?” Hinata asked, eyeing him with disdain.

“The shackles tie you to the cell itself.” he said, feeling odd now there was no barrier between them, the cell suddenly not big enough for the ten it was built to hold. “So? How do we do this?”

Hinata seemed to fight with himself again, letting out a out a curt sigh before turning to face him head-on.

“My-” he floundered under Kuroos quiet observation before charging head on. “Soldiers are all required to have a regiment crest adorned to their body that captures their last moments. It's attached to their sternum. You need to extract mine and then let me use my magic to trigger it so it captures what I need it to.”

Something didn't ring true to what he was saying, just as his name hadn't.

“Sounds awfully fancy for a mere foot-soldier to warrant having. Sorry.” he corrected himself, “Foot-mage.”

“Yes, it's very fancy.” Hinata brushed him off. “Think you can do it?”

“Think you can handle it?” he shot back. They locked eyes for a moment before a knock sounded at the door. The guards.

He should have told them he needed more time. They only had a few minutes at most and it occurred to him that he wasn't acting entirely rational right now.

 

Hinata pulled his prison robe aside to bare his chest. There didn't seem to be anything unusual protruding.

“It's there. Believe me.”

“I believe you.” Kuroo said, and he did, despite it not making much sense. Having someone almost die to save you brought a certain level of trust with it, he mused.

Breathing out slowly before raising his hand just above the skin in the middle of Hinata's chest, Kuroo made sure he didn't notice how Hinata seemed to have trouble swallowing. He needed to focus.

 

There it was. Something that didn't belong inside a body.

“Ready? On the count of three.

 

 

"One-” He pulled it forth, and it flew into his palm. It wasn't covered in blood, but it was still slippery with something.

Hinata punched him in the chest, hard, barely making him shift.

“Bastard.” Hinata gasped.

Kuroo ran his other hand smoothly over where the circular bone disk had been, feeling the damage it'd left, easily stitched a heal in place.

"Two..."

"Stop counting-"

Kuroo kept his hand there, feeling obliged to add more power to it than it needed, feeling a little bad about what he'd done.

"Three..." he mumbled, frowning while he looked over what looked like a family crest as Hinata's breathing evened out.

“You're good at that.” he heard "Hinata Tobio" say. Hand still in his chest, he could feel the slight reverberations and still somewhat elevated heartbeat.

Kuroo paused another moment before meeting his eyes. Finally taking in what Tsukishima had said.

“I can teach you, sometime. When all this is over.”

“Better hurry up and get working then.” he held out his shackled wrists “I can't do anything with these on.”

“I know.” but he didn't move.

 

This was a Tsukishima family crest.  _The_  Tsukishima family crest. From their reputation, he highly doubted all foot-soldiers would be given the courtesy of having their last moments immortalised like this. But, if he was a Tsukishima, if they were like  _this_ Tsukishima, maybe a foot-soldier would be regarded with esteem.

 

Or maybe this man was royalty.

 

The urge to break him out of here right now was wrestling hard with his own common-sense. If the council knew he was one of the heirs to their enemy kingdom, would that help? How would it help? Would they hoist him up to the gallows without hesitating? Make an example of him? He wanted to believe they would listen. Maybe they would acknowledge someone of royal blood enough to bargain with them...

 

There wasn't enough time.

 

He had no faith in the council.

 

 

This would have to do.

 

 

Hina- Tsukishima's hand came to rest over the one still splayed on his chest. “Kuroo?”

Snapping to attention, he focused on breaking the shackle spells enough to make them short circuit, and untied the material from Tsukishimas wrists, letting them fall to the floor where they fizzed back into functionality.

He would have to explain the fluctuations later, but if there was nothing amiss, they'd have a hard time pinning anything to him.

 

“Right. Now the crest.” he took it from Kuroos palm and hurriedly tried to focus, sensing time was short, but his fingers cramped as he dropped it to the floor with a cry.

“What is it?” he asked alarmed, immediately cursing himself. “The cell – it's been using you to keep it powered. I'm sorry, I forgot-”

“I can't do the spell?” Tsukishima laughed out in disbelief.

“What do you take me for?” Kuroo laughed in kind. “Here.” Picking up the crest, he took Tsukishima's hand between his own, letting his own connection flow through into Tsukishima, free for him to bend to his will.

Unbidden, a small gasped escaped him. Surprised Tsukishima didn't hesitate, he felt himself curve to his purpose, weaving something familiar... definitely an imbue spell. He was doing what he'd said he'd do. Kuroo let out a slow sigh, relieved his trust had been honored, lamenting that things had to be this way.

 

The spell began to take shape. Memories of the battle from Tsukishima's perspective flashed before him, but more than the actions, he felt Tsukishima focus on the emotions, the motivations, almost like he couldn't remember what had transpired in the battle – couldn't bear to make himself remember. He saw himself from Tsukishima's perspective, felt the doubt, indecision, loathing, felt him wrestling with his own apathy to reach beyond and find what he knew he had to do to stay true to himself.

Kuroo lying like a corpse, atop a sad bed of leaves and branches trying to keep his body from the freezing rock floor. Scared beyond belief, it seemed to help fuel him on for the time being...

Despite his passive part in the spell, Kuroo latched onto the spike of tenderness Tsukishima had felt, watching him smile despite his near-death state, before the current Tsukishima guided them through the rest of the memory, trying to brush over how important Kuroo reaching out to him had been when they'd almost been found, Kuroo actively dying whilst Tsukishima made the fast decision to let go of both cloaking deception spells, using what command he had left to send them to where at least Kuroo would be safe-

The barracks-

Considering burning himself out for the purpose of letting Kuroo live, but too greedy for a life where maybe he'd get a chance to know him better, later-

Waking up in a cell, Kuroo coming to see him, finally. Grateful to see his face and know he was safe. Then he, Kuroo, was talking. Sad and but whole, and right there. And it was unacceptable for him, Tsukishima, to forget any of this. Ever.

 

The memory began to loop on itself and Tsukishima squeezed his fingers gently around Kuroos hand before drawing it from between Kuroos, leaving them both standing there, reeling at the absence of connection.

 

Life wasn't fair.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Unrequited

 

There hadn't been a chance to get the crest to him.

He'd been taken away as soon as the spell was in effect and most likely kept unconscious, to make sure he'd have no idea where he'd ever been.

But it was okay. There'd be a chance, in the field. Kuroo could sneak off on his own, infiltrate the camp and get it back to him and

leave it at that, for now. That would be where things would start.

That would be where things would start again, for the better.

 

 ---

 

Tsukishima woke up cold and alone, staring up at the stars as they blinked in and out of existence through the gently seating canopy high above. A quick scan of the area revealed to him that he shouldn't have done a quick scan of the area, his connection to the source tenuous at best, despite having no recollection of what could have –

 

The battle.

 

But how did that help explain where he was. Maybe someone had launched a scattering transportation spell... it didn't matter. The crescent moon was high in the night sky and he'd been lucky to have woken up before anything had thought of him as dinner. Standing up, he gathered his staff at the same time, leaning heavily on it as his head spun. Okay, so. Not in great shape, he couldn't tell where he was and he was really,  _really_  hungry. But before any of that he needed rest. Carefully, he set about looking for... anything, really. A comfy bush. A tree that he could crawl under and hope nothing else decided it was a nice place to camp too.

 

Sighing in annoyance, he set off into the night, but not before checking himself and the area he'd woken up in a few times over, unable to shake the feeling that he'd lost something.

 

* * *

 

 

Break up

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Death

 

If he felt like he'd done this walk before, it was because he had, he just couldn't remember it. Walking along in the aftermath of the battle, he couldn't help but think it had been more of a slaughter. They had fought, giving their everything, but it was like they'd been sent to die. What on this roasted earth did the commanders on the elf council think they were doing?

 

Another body caught his attention, very much dead, and he felt his eyes glaze over. No time to think about anything else right now. There could be survivors. He could question the morality of his own commanders later.

 

A tuft of black fur that could have been a part of someones cloak caught his eye next. It turned out to be a shock of black hair, elven ears parting its fall, attached to one of the most attractive men he'd ever seen.

 

Dead, unfortunately.

 

Tear tracks had cleared lines down his upturned face through the soot, blood and muk, and his ruined arms folded loosely over his stomach, where it looked like he must have been praying before he went.

 

Time seemed to slow down, the sun beating down on him in waves timed with his heartbeat. His mind reached into the void where he'd lost the better part of a week, trying to tell him what his body seemed to know, but mind couldn't fathom. It was highly likely he'd been captured by the enemy. He had no idea what information they must have gleaned from him or why they'd bothered to return him alive. That his bone crescent was missing had been great cause for contention and led to an investigation into their own ranks. Not that anything had come of it.

 

The shock must be settling in, he thought to himself, as when he went to kneel down beside the man he fell heavily onto his haunches and all thoughts of enemy trapped bodies with teleportation spells abandoned him as he put a hand to the mans face.

 

Life was unfair.

 

He didn't know what he'd been expecting. Some sort of answer, he guessed. Looking down to the mans hands, he could see he was holding onto something. A talisman, maybe.

 

Throwing a cautionary detection spell its way, he instantly recognised his own signature and froze. Carefully turning over the mans hand, he could see a palm-sized bone crescent which fell flat on the mans torso, unmistakably showing the guilded carving of his family crest.

 

That probably held all the answers he needed. But fighting against his need to know was a powerful onslaught of dread, like all the things he couldn't remember he was missing would only be confirmed as gone forever.

 

What if he'd removed the memories himself because he couldn't bear them? What could have been so terrible.

 

However, he hadn't got this far in life by listening to what he felt. Maybe the elf was just a messenger, trying to get this back to him.

 

It could be nothing.

 

Forcing his own apprehension down, he took back his family crest, looking at it. Waiting for it to reveal everything to him. But nothing happened.

He would have to look into it later. How did these crests work anyway? He'd never had to recover one before. Breathing out he frowned and turned to the elven man as if he was to blame for the pointless turbulent ride his emotions had been dragged through, except he recognised him this time.

 

 

“Kuroo.”

 

 

 


End file.
